I Can't Contact Him
by Yuuki Miyaka
Summary: [OOC, cussing] Written so that it could encompass any character in the series. You tell me who it is.


**Disclaimer:**   
Don't own anything.

**Warnings:**   
OOC, angst, cursing.

**I Can't Contact Him**  
A Gundam Wing fic  
by: Yuuki Miyaka

I can't reach him, and it's scaring me. That last mission was dangerous. Suicidal, even. He's always come back before, but this time . . . I just don't know. I've been in this position once too often, wondering if he's doing it purposefully, wondering if he even cares if he returns. Wondering, too, if he knows what danger really is. Just because he's never felt death doesn't mean that he's immortal. But he seems to think he is.

I can't reach him. I've tried five times now, over the last four hours. No matter what, even if he'd been captured, he should have been able to contact me via at least ONE of the communication devices he has. Even supposing he can't, it's a good bet that they'll kill him if they DID capture him. So . . . either way, he's dead.

No. I can't face that. He's my *friend.* He can't die yet. I won't let him. Think, think. What can I do to help him? What can I do to save him?

You don't know what helplessness is until you find yourself sitting and waiting for an answer that might never come, letting you know that your friend is safe. *That* is helplessness. *That* is true fear. *That* is what I'm going through now.

Music's playing in the background. I turned it on in an effort to keep myself from thinking too much. But it's not helping. Instead, it's just fueling the fear. I think everything will fuel the fear now. I don't know what to do.

I can't reach him. I just tried again, and still no answer. Dammit, dammit, gotta leave him time to answer. He'd never kill himself on purpose. I know that. So whatever it is, it's gotta be something that's keeping him from answering. Maybe he's hurt. Maybe he was too tired after the last mission and fell asleep. Maybe he's on his way back right now and doesn't see the point in answering me. A thousand maybes flit through my head, one right after the other, until the last one stays to haunt me.

Maybe he's dead. Maybe he's dying. And I can't reach him, and I can't do anything. It isn't much at first. A little worry. Some amusement that he hasn't completed the objective yet. And then an hour passes, and it's turning to worry. Another hour, and it's extreme worry, tempered with fear. And that fear grows and grows and grows until you just can't handle it. I'm sitting here waiting for him to contact me, and I realize suddenly that I'm rocking back and forth. I do that when I'm scared. I think it's left over from my childhood.

Contact me, dammit. Tell me you're all right. Tell me you're safe, that nothing's happened to you. Tell me anything, just contact me. I need to hear from you. I'm so worried. I think I've developed a phobia thanks to him. I think I'm going to be scared to let him out of my sight if he comes home. I mean, *when* he comes home. When. When. Gotta think in whens, not ifs. He's coming home, and I've gotta be ready for him.

It's not working. I'm still scared, still waiting for the contact, still rocking back and forth. Prayers might help, I think, and bow my head, thinking them rather than speaking aloud. He'll contact me, and I'll laugh at myself. Laugh at my fears. I just have to give him enough time to contact me.

But . . . if he's not okay, what can I do? I can't contact him. I can't contact anyone to help him. I can't do anything because I don't *know* anything. Because my mind could just be making all these crazy scenarios up, and I can't do anything about it. Because I don't know if I'll ever hear from him again and I can't do anything about that either. Because I can't contact him.

It all comes back to that. It keeps coming back to that one little sentence. I can't contact him and it's scaring the hell out of me. He'll come home, though. He'll be safe, and he'll make me laugh again.

Right?

~Owari~

**Author's Notes:**  
No clue who's talking, and no clue who 'he' is, so please don't ask. I can't reach my friend and I'm worried about her and writing helps me sometimes.

**Second Author's Note:**  
My friend just called. She's safe. Life is now good.


End file.
